


fashionably late

by prouvairing



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Cosette just orders them about, Cunnilingus, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-10
Updated: 2014-04-10
Packaged: 2018-01-18 22:15:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1444768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prouvairing/pseuds/prouvairing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>He's never buying a watch that works, ever.</i>
</p>
<p>Marius is late. His partners get started without him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	fashionably late

**Author's Note:**

> I hesitated so much about posting this, okay, it's definitely the longest E-rated piece I've ever written, I might just go hide in a hole for a couple hundred years now.  
> But [Eve](http://littlewadoo.tumblr.com/) was asking for MC2 and of course I couldn't come up with plot.  
> So I came up with porn.
> 
> Many, many thanks to my smutty partner in crime, [Beth](http://besanii.tumblr.com/), who beta-ed this like the angel she is.

Cosette’s mouth is pink, wet, slack around a sigh. Her eyes are closed and her brow furrowed, as if in concentration. When her lashes flutter open, her dark, dark eyes settle on Marius and she smiles.

“Ah, love,” she says, her breath hitching. Her smile is wicked. “You’re late.”

Courfeyrac’s curls peek from between her legs, arms straining to hold himself up, his fingers making dents in the soft skin of her thighs.

He makes to move, to raise his head to turn to Marius – he can see it in the way the sloping curve of Courfeyrac’s back shifts – but Cosette reaches out fast and yanks at his hair, holding him in place.

She tuts. Courfeyrac groans.

When Cosette’s leg shifts, a sudden _oh!_ leaves her lips, and he can see the sharp line of Courfeyrac’s jaw move against her. Marius’ jeans are suddenly so, so tight.

His thoughts are scattered, catching briefly on the pretty cream-colored lace bra Cosette is still wearing, the way her back arches off the bed, and the dimples that peek just above the swell of Courfeyrac’s backside.

He’s never buying a watch that works, ever.

Cosette draws another deep sigh, and her fingers keep moving gently through Courfeyrac’s hair. “Now, now,” she says, her voice wavering only slightly. “What to do with you, love?”

Marius doesn’t move, even though he’s straining against his zipper and it hurts. Cosette’s dark eyes keep him in place.

“I think – ” she says and pauses to catch her breath as Courfeyrac does something particularly interesting with his lips. Marius thinks he may know – sucked on her clit, the way she likes. “You weren’t here, love,” she continues, somewhat disconnected. “We missed you so – _ah!_ – just couldn’t wait. And _Courf_ ,” she purrs his name and he moans against her, drawing a moan of her own. “Courf has been so good, _so good._ ” Cosette bites her lip, Marius whines.

Her lashes flutter and she says, “I think he deserves to be fucked, don’t you?”

She looks down and Marius can’t see, but he can imagine the way Courfeyrac looks up through long lashes, his mouth otherwise occupied but his sinful smile still showing through his eyes.

And then he _wiggles his ass_ , in invitation.

Marius spares no time getting undressed. It’s particularly ungraceful, even for him.

Cosette’s laughter is delighted and breathless, broken on a gasp. “Wait, wait,” she says, holding her arm out to him. “Come here first!”

He goes.

One of her hands has let go of Courfeyrac’s head to reach up to Marius, catching him around the neck to bring him down to her.

Her lips are swollen with previous kisses, soft and sweet, and the meeting of their tongues is joyful. She kisses him hard, and when she pulls away her eyes are glittering.

“Hello, my love,” Cosette says.

Marius has to dip down and press two more fleeting kisses to the corners of her mouth, then down the column of her throat and the swell of her breasts –

Cosette laughs. “Go, go!”

He kisses her once and pulls back, and her hand trails down his arm as he goes back around towards Courfeyrac.

They haven’t done this often before – Marius is usually the one to take it – but it isn’t the first time this has happened either. Still, he has to take a deep breath when he finds himself standing behind Courfeyrac.

He runs a gentle hand along his back, and Courfeyrac arches into his touch like a cat. He thumbs one of the dimples at the base of his spine and bends to kiss the other, earning himself a surprised sound that is lost inside Cosette.

He knows this is part of the plan: every moan he draws from Courfeyrac, she will feel too.

“Love?” she calls out, gently. When he looks at her, she’s waving the bottle of lube at him. “Forget something?”

It’s a small blessing that he’s already flushed all the way down his shoulders, or he would have blushed in embarrassment now.

“Right!” he says, and barely catches the bottle when Cosette throws it towards him. For the first time since he walked in, Courfeyrac pulls back to laugh. Cosette makes a small disapproving sound, but it’s half-hearted.

They slow down; she doesn’t want to miss the good part.

“Condom?” Marius asks.

“No condom,” Cosette replies, not missing a beat. “We’ve talked about it.”

What she means is that she probably asked Courfeyrac beforehand, but she also means they _have_ talked about it, all three, done the tests and then the deed, in various configurations.

Plus, Courfeyrac turns from the kisses he was pressing on Cosette’s inner thigh, and their eyes meet for the first time. His lips and chin are still slick and Marius wants to kiss him and taste them both at once.

He smirks at Marius and presses back, so their hips are flush together, making him whimper.

“Well, love,” he says, his voice hoarse in the best way. “Get me dirty.”

It’s such a corny line that it shouldn’t work, but it’s Courf, so of course the _way_ he says it, and the _look_ he gives Marius are quite enough to have him scrambling to pop open the lid of the bottle.

He’s generous with the lube, and goes to circle a finger around Courfeyrac’s entrance, but finds that it slips in without resistance.

Marius chokes on air and croaks out, “ _Courf!”_

Cosette chuckles again, tangling her fingers in Courfeyrac’s hair again, as he leans into the touch. “So we took a little time to prep, before. As I said, we just _couldn’t_ wait.”

The image comes to him unbidden, Cosette pushing her long, nimble fingers inside Courfeyrac, stretching him open – or Courfeyrac doing it himself, while Cosette watches. Both of them thinking of when Marius would come home and how he could just push all the way in, in one single thrust.

He lets out a shaky breath.

Marius still takes the time to push two fingers in, then three, testing just how open Courfeyrac is for him. When he finds his prostate, Courfeyrac cries out, and Cosette takes that chance to yank on his curls again, to bring him back in place.

They speed up.

Marius slicks himself up and whimpers quietly at the contact, then lines himself up with Courfeyrac, pushing only the head inside. Courfeyrac groans, Cosette gasps. Almost a perfect harmony.

He pushes in slowly, met with no resistance at all, and Courfeyrac’s hips rock back to meet him.

“Look at me,” Cosette says. Marius isn’t sure which one of them she is talking to, but he looks at her, and Courfeyrac does the same.

She smiles and cocks her head, reaching back to finally unclasp her bra, and a decidedly unsexy noise leaves Marius’ lips.

There’s the sight of Cosette’s breasts, the pink perfect tips, and the heat of Courfeyrac around his length and he _really, really needs to move._

“Cosette, _please_ ,” he whines.

Cosette sighs and her eyes never leave them. “Go on,” she concedes, and keeps holding onto Courfeyrac. “Don’t lose your rhythm, dear heart,” she tells him.

Marius starts moving, pulling back almost all the way and then slamming back in, and Courfeyrac moans loudly.

He tries to start slowly, with long thrusts, but he picks up his pace soon enough. He finds himself draped over Courfeyrac’s back, mouthing at his neck and shoulder. One of his hands has found its way to Cosette’s leg.

Marius hears high, desperate sounds, and it takes him a while to realize that he’s the one making them. Courfeyrac’s every moan comes muffled, and sharp gasps and sighs fall from Cosette’s lips.

“Courfeyrac,” she pleads. “Don’t stop now, please, please, _please_ – _oh_ – right there, just – _ah_ –”

She’s brought her hands up to her chest, thumbs toying with her nipples and she’s close and _God_ , so is Marius.

“Courf, I can’t –” he whines. “I’m gonna –”

That’s when Courfeyrac brings his hand up to press two fingers into Cosette, speeding up his movements, and she comes, arching up and sucking in air. She’s always quiet, letting out gasps and soft breathy moans at most, canting her hips against him as Courfeyrac keeps stroking her, carrying her through her orgasm.

Her mouth is a pretty pink _o,_ one of her hands clenching in the sheets. Marius’s hips stutter and he feels Courfeyrac clench around him, making a needy sound of his own, pushing back and –

He’s coming too, and it crashes into him almost by surprise, too soon for anyone’s liking.

For a moment, they’re still; Cosette and Marius coming down from their highs, Courfeyrac still painfully hard and leaking between them. He lets out a decidedly disgruntled huff.

“Well, that’s nice,” he says, vaguely petulant. It’s somewhat contradicted by the way his hand trails up along Cosette’s leg to tangle with Marius’ and he turns his head to bite at her inner thigh. “I think I’ll need a little help here.”

Cosette chuckles and pulls back, propping herself up to sit against the pillow. The tops of her breasts are splotched red, and they rise and fall with her labored breath.

“I have an idea,” she says, then beckons with her fingers. “Come here.”

They take a moment before they comply; Courfeyrac groans as Marius pulls out. He turns around and he looks like sin, with his mouth wet and his hair hopelessly tangled and Marius’ come trickling down his thighs. He eyes it and then throws Marius an eloquent look.

Marius shrugs and pants, “You _asked_.”

Courfeyrac laughs, and there’s still an edge to it, and when he kisses Marius, it’s desperate. He bites at his lips, until they are red and swollen. He tastes sharp like Cosette and then beneath that, like himself and it’s absolutely everything Marius thought it would be.

Cosette watches fondly, but reprimands, “ _Boys._ ”

They don’t stop kissing, and Marius has a pretty good idea of what Cosette wants, so he crowds Courfeyrac back against the bed, onto it, until Courfeyrac is sitting between Cosette’s legs, back flush against her breasts.

Cosette’s arms come up around him, one hand up to tease a nipple, the other down to circle his erection. Courfeyrac moans into Marius’ mouth.

Marius pulls away and looks at Cosette. “What do you want?”

Her smile is slow and innocent. “I want your mouth on him,” she says.

Courfeyrac makes a sound like he’s dying.

Marius feels a smile tug at the corner of his lips, and kisses them both – Courfeyrac, then Cosette. Then he bends down to kiss the head of Courfeyrac’s cock.

Cosette’s hands are still stroking him slowly, and Marius swallows him down until his lips are touching Cosette’s fingers.

He draws back, sinks down again, gets lost in the motions, in the weight of Courfeyrac on his tongue and the increasing ache in his jaw.

There are hands in his hair, smoothing it away and scratching his scalp softly, and he’s not quite sure whom they belong to. Both of them, maybe.

“Oh, look at him, dear heart,” he hears Cosette say, below Courfeyrac’s increasingly desperate noises. “Isn’t he beautiful, with his lips around your cock?”

Marius hums in appreciation and keeps up his rhythm, until hands spasm in his hair – Courfeyrac’s – and he hears him gasp above him, “Marius, _Marius!_ ”

That’s all the warning he gets, before Courfeyrac shouts, and comes.

Marius makes a face as he pulls away, wiping at his mouth. He doesn’t like swallowing much, and there are apologetic hands petting his hair.

“Sorry,” croaks out Coufeyrac, slumped against Cosette, who’s pressing soft kisses to his cheek and neck and shoulder.

Marius shrugs and rests his cheek against Courfeyrac’s thigh, unwilling to move just yet. “S’okay. Next time, try to warn.”

Courfeyrac catches one of his hands and brings it to his lips, kissing his palm. “I will. Thank you, love.”

Marius hums and nuzzles into his thigh. They don’t say anything for a while.

Then Cosette pipes up, “Are you going to take a nap there, love?”

Marius snorts. “Not really. Can’t say I want to sleep with Courfeyrac’s dick in my face.”

Courfeyrac lets out a mock-offended gasp. “As if. You love having my dick in your face.”

Marius shrugs, because he kind of does, in the right context. Which this isn’t. He doesn’t say anything, but grudgingly gets up to find something to clean them up.

Once they’re done, Courfeyrac tugs at Marius’ hand. “Come on, it’s Courfeysandwich time.”

“Please stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Tacking on random words to the end of your name.”

“What, it’s funny!”

They shift until they’re lying on their sides, Cosette still pressed against Courfeyrac’s back and Marius to his front. “It’s really, really not,” Marius says.

“ _Boys_ ,” Cosette warns.

“Sorry, angel,” says Courfeyrac, but the grin he shoots Marius isn’t sorry at all.

Cosette draws a long-suffering sigh, and kisses Courfeyrac’s shoulder, than tilts her head up for Marius, who kisses her.

“Naptime,” she orders. “Then we can discuss our options.”

Courfeyrac’s smile grows. “Like the option of round two?”

“Hush,” she says, but she’s smiling. He laces their fingers together and rests them on Marius’ hip. They’re nose to nose, and Marius doesn’t know whose legs are currently tangled with his.

They sleep.


End file.
